


Though the Night Will Last Through Morning

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e23 25, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-08
Updated: 2005-04-08
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: They think this night will never end.





	Though the Night Will Last Through Morning

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Though the Night Will Last Through Morning**

**by: IDreamOfAJ**

**Character(s):** CJ, Ron  
**Pairing(s):** CJ/Ron  
**Category(s):** Post-Episode  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Summary:** They think this night will never end.  
**Spoiler:** _25_.  
**Author's Note:** This is the first time I’ve done CJ/Ron. Hell, it’s the first time I’ve written Ron at all. And I’m not sure why. But, I did it anyway. This starts a couple of hours after 25 ends. And it’s for Angie whom I’m sure never saw this coming. 

Though The Night Will Last Through Morning 

“This night will never end,” he thinks. 

He’s quite certain that this is the worst day of his professional life. No. Of his entire life. 

He’d thought Rosslyn was bad. He’d let a bullet get past him and into the President. And Josh Lyman. That had been horrific. He had blamed himself a dozen times over by the time he was telling Toby that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. He hadn’t minded lying. 

He was sure that it wouldn’t, couldn’t get worse than last May. He had taken CJ’s computer with harsh tones and a gruff manner. He couldn’t admit to himself, much less her, that he was perhaps more than just professionally concerned for her. And he’d seen CJ Cregg in action before. She wouldn’t be swayed easily. His stomach had clenched when he had laid out the photos. When she had flinched, almost imperceptibly. 

But, he’d assigned her the best agent for that sort of detail. And then he’d had to pull her out of that damnable play and watch her try to process what he had been saying. And then, he’d helped bury Simon Donovan. 

But this. This was much, much worse. Zoey Bartlet was missing. This was his nightmare scenario, as much as the President’s. And he couldn’t do anything but tell other people what to do. 

“We’re doing everything that can be done.” 

He had said that to Walken. (Acting) President Walken he reminds himself. 

He wishes that he felt as if he were doing everything. Anything. Something to keep his mind occupied. To keep his thoughts from straying to Zoey bound and gagged and terrified. Or worse. 

He’s pulled in everyone he can on this. If he does nothing else, he will make sure they find this girl. Before the night is out. 

He’s sitting at his desk reviewing the ransom note for the hundredth time when Peter finds him. Walken wants to see him in five minutes. 

“Peter, it’s President Walken. At least… for now.” 

“Fuck,” he thinks. 

When he last saw him, he’d thought Leo had aged ten years in about two hours. He feels like he’s aged at least twice that. 

He’s walking towards the Oval when he sees her. She’s standing in the hallway, facing the wall. She’s shaking. 

“CJ?” 

She jumps slightly, startled. Still shaking. 

“Are you alright?” 

CJ looks past him for a moment. He can almost see her reigning in her thoughts and emotions. Composing herself. 

“I’m fine. Any news?” 

“No. Nothing yet. But, we’re still working on some of the early leads. Are you sure you’re… ?” 

She shakes her head and bites her lip. 

“It’s fine. I just… I had a meeting with Walken, whom I’m sure within the hour will decide that we should call him ‘His Lordship’.” 

She glances around to see if anyone heard. He wonders who would care. Then he remembers the press hunting around for any new information. Anything new to report. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just that Zoey is missing and he wants to discuss the statement I’m giving about the frat boys’ joyride in the Beachcomber. For twenty minutes!” 

She punctuates the last words with her hand jabbing the air between them. 

He watches her take a deep breath. The shaking has stopped. Some of her anger has ebbed. 

“I’m sorry, Ron. You have more important things to do than to listen to me rant about Walken.” 

“Don’t worry about it, CJ. I’m on my way to see him now.” 

He takes a step towards her and lowers his voice conspiratorially. 

“And I’m in no rush. Believe me.” 

She smiles at him then. The genuine one she uses when she means it. Not the one she uses on the press corps or the long-winded politicians. He’s studied her smiles and knows the difference. He feels a surge of… something. And smiles back. 

“Well, I probably shouldn’t keep you any longer. Even if it is the humane thing to do.” 

CJ steps around him and starts walking away. He takes two steps when he hears her call his name. 

“Ron… you’ll let me know if… ?” 

“Yeah, CJ. You’re the third on my list.” 

It’s his turn to look around for potential eavesdroppers. Seeing none he continues. 

“I’m off to see the fourth.” 

He hears her laughter in his head all the way to the Oval Office. 

~ * ~ 

He’s only half-listening to Walken. Except that he’s catching everything. It’s a useful skill you learn in the Secret Service. He can think about several things and still absorb every word about how things are gonna change, and how they’ll be done now. 

He’s arguing with His Lordship in his head. And he’s smiling at the thought that he’s already using her nickname for Walken. Smiling on the inside, at least. It’s not hard to do when he thinks about CJ Cregg. 

He had found her attractive the first time he’d seen her. Who wouldn’t? But, she was someone that he occasionally interacted with, nothing more. She was always friendly. 

Well, almost always. She’d had some choice words about her codename. She hadn’t seemed at all impressed when he had told her that the flamingo was a fine looking bird. She hadn’t held a grudge about that though. And he had started thinking about her more often. 

Now, he considers her a friend. He knew she’d been shaken by the stalker and stopped cold by Simon’s death. He’d purposely sought her out. Just to make sure she was okay. They had shared quite a few cups of coffee last summer. He had started to think about her even more. 

He made a point of watching her briefings now. He decided he liked listening to her voice. Any way that he could. When some of the agents had questioned his sudden interest in the briefings, he had impressed upon them the importance of expecting the unexpected. And something could come up that might cause a threat of some kind down the road. He had done such a good job that now the majority of the “office” agents regularly watch her briefings as well. 

He’s about to berate himself for thinking about CJ when he should be concentrating on Zoey. But, then he remembers that he’d been trying for hours not to think about the horrors she might be facing. And CJ had helped. 

He returns his full focus to Walken. 

“Yes, Sir. That kind of an organizational change will take quite a bit of planning. I should be able to get it going in two or three days.” 

He doesn’t finish the thought out loud, “but by then, hopefully, you’ll be long gone”. 

Once dismissed he heads back to his office. They had better have some news for him when he gets there. 

~ * ~ 

He’s sitting at his desk. He’s pissed at just about everyone. But mostly at himself. Well, it’s a tie. Between himself and that dumbass French kid. If he hadn’t already done so, he’d want to deck that kid. 

He knew better than that. He’d been able to keep his composure throughout this un-ending night. Mostly. 

If he’d just gotten himself out of the room one minute earlier. If the kid had been even slightly more concerned for Zoey than for his own sorry ass. If he’d been even remotely willing to help. Well, then Jean Paul wouldn’t have a broken nose right now. And Ron wouldn’t be completing his incident report about his “use of force on a witness”. 

He hears her enter the room. But, he doesn’t look up. 

“So. You’ve got a lot of people ticked at you right now. You know that don’t you?” 

A shrug is his only response. 

“Yep. A lot of people ticked. Including me.” 

He looks up sharply at her. She has her game face on so he can’t tell what she’s thinking. 

“See, there are a lot of people who wanted to hit him. But now… well, it’s been done. So, there’s not much chance we’ll get a crack at him.” 

He sees the game face leave and a brilliant smile take it’s place. He gives her a small smile in return. 

“I shouldn’t have hit him. It was inappropriate and unprofessional.” 

“Not to mention, he’s not even a citizen. So, now this is gonna be a whole international thing.” 

For a split second he ponders the implications of that. Until he realizes that she’s teasing him. Trying to make him feel better. 

She asks if he was able to get anything from Jean Paul. Though he knows that she already knows the answer. He tells her anyway that he didn’t. Not even the name of the dealer. But, Leo was right – he’s sure the dealer’s been dead for hours. 

An awkward silence fills the room for a minute before she shifts and moves closer to him. Next to him. 

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know this must be… difficult. If you need… .” 

“It’s okay, CJ. This is my job.” 

“I know. I just… you know… last summer you where there and I don’t know, I thought I should be here and… you know I think I’ll just stop talking now.” 

She laughs that small, self-deprecating laugh she has and tilts her head. He knows the different laughs too. 

“I appreciate it, CJ. I do. But, I have a job to do right now. I think I’ll think about all this later.” 

“Yeah.” 

She turns but doesn’t leave. It almost seems to him that she’s weighing her options, maybe. Finally she turns back to him and leans over. She kisses him shyly on the cheek. Then without another word, she’s gone. 

~ * ~ 

It’s definitely morning. He can prove it to himself just by looking out a window. By seeing the gray pre-dawn light. But, as far as he’s concerned, it’s still night. The same, never ceasing night. 

He knows that it’s irrational. Ridiculous even. But he’s past caring. He knows the longer she’s gone, the greater the chance that she’s dead. And Zoey Bartlet is not dead, damn it. As long as he pretends it’s still night, then they’re still in Day One. And that’s, well, not good. But it’s the closest to bearable he can find at the moment. 

If anyone asks, he’s looking for coffee. The pot downstairs has been empty for hours. Really, he’s looking for CJ. He thinks if maybe he can see her for just a minute he can push down the fear that’s been creeping up his spine all night. She thinks he’s strong, tough. She told him that one sunny morning last summer as she had grinned over her coffee cup. He needs to think of himself as tough right now. Instead of old and tired. Impotent to do anything useful. 

The west wing seems deserted. It’s five a.m. and nobody’s in sight. He heard from someone that couches and cots were being organized for those still in the building. They’re still shut down. No one in or out. Except Toby. He smiles at that. Toby, a father. Molly. He stops that train of thought abruptly. He can’t go down that track. Not yet. 

Her office door is open, but he doesn’t see her. He pokes his head in and there she is. Asleep on the couch. She’s curled up, one hand hanging off the edge, the other tucked under her chin. 

He’s glad she was able to sleep. He’d caught sight of her last briefing at four as he’d passed one of the televisions on his way to see Walken. She’d looked exhausted. 

“Are you going to stand there all night or are you coming in?” 

“I thought you were sleeping.” 

“Nope. I only laid down a couple of minutes ago. Come in.” 

“No. You should sleep, I’ll… .” 

“Ron! Come in. I’m not gonna sleep. I have to get ready for His Lordship’s first press appearance as Acting President. It’s in less than an hour.” 

He takes a seat in one of the chairs. She sighs heavily and sits up, keeping her legs curled under her. 

“I don’t think this night will ever end.” 

He laughs softly at her words. 

“You know I was thinking that same thing. Only, it was several hours ago now. And really, it’s morning now.” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t… let’s just say it’s still night. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He is amazed that she won’t let it be day either. 

They sit in silence, this time comfortably, for several minutes. Finally he heaves himself out of the chair and makes for the door. 

“I should get back.” 

“Yeah.” 

CJ stands and stretches her back. She moves next to him at the door. She looks away and then down and then at him. 

“Ron, I’m gonna do something. And, I’m sure it’s a bad idea. But, Zoey’s God knows where, and Walken’s sitting at President Bartlet’s desk, and I think it’s entirely possible that the world has in fact tilted off it’s axis. So, I don’t care if this is stupid or the wrong time or really… anything.” 

And suddenly her hands are on either side of his face and her lips are pressing against his. And she’s kissing him. Fiercely. And his hands are on her waist, pulling her closer. And he’s kissing right back. 

When breathing becomes a necessity, she pulls back. Steps back. Her voice is husky and at the same time, almost light-hearted. 

“So, I was thinking, when this night is finally over. When Zoey’s home safe and Walken’s on his ass on the sidewalk, maybe we should talk about this.” 

“That would probably be a good idea, CJ. We could get coffee.” 

“Or dinner.” 

“Or dinner.” 

“Okay. Umm… thanks, Ron.” 

“Thank you, CJ. I’ll see you later.” 

Without looking back he walks away. His steps more sure. His spirits considerably higher than just thirty minutes ago. 

He has no doubt anymore. They’ll find Zoey shortly. Alive. And bring her home. 

And this night will finally end. 

The End 


End file.
